


The Black Dog

by AshesTheTerrible



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Altean lance, Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Anal Sex, Biting, Breakups, Dream Sex, Dubious Consent, Knotting, M/M, Monster sex, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Shapeshifter shiro, Sleep Sex, Werewolf Sex, past klance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 07:44:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17935673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshesTheTerrible/pseuds/AshesTheTerrible
Summary: Lance is following big dreams. One's that require him to leave everything he's ever known behind him. It's lonely and frightening, this brand new town with brand new people. He is desperate for company. And he finds it, in the form of a stray dog he's determined to befriend. There's something different about the massive animal, intelligence behind it's big honey eyes. Sometimes Lance feels like the animal understands him on levels it shouldn't.Little does he know, but there is more to this new friendship than meets the eye.





	1. The Dog in the Alley

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my January entry for the year of Shance!!! I am super late but it's finally done! Enjoy!

Lance set the box in his hands down on the mess of a countertop. The home around him was a whirlwind of boxes and furniture shoved here and there. It looked like a storm had come through and he was still in the midst of recovery. 

Maybe a storm  _ had _ come through. 

He felt like it had, anyway. 

It had knocked him over and thrashed him around until he was nothing but tattered pieces. 

He ran a hand through messy chocolate locks. 

He hadn’t expected it all to feel so rotten in the aftermath of his actions. But then again he should have foreseen this coming. 

He’d been the one to set a bomb beneath his life and light it. He should have been ready for the explosion, but he’d not been. 

He’d broken off his relationship, he’d known it was just…time. Keith hadn’t taken it well, and Lance hoped maybe one day he’d forgive him but in his heart knew he’d go down in Keith’s book as ‘the one who broke his heart’. That was ok too he guessed. He just couldn’t keep pretending there wasn’t an unspoken strain there, his decision to move had just given him the little push he needed to finally say what had been on his mind. He’d been thinking a lot about his future, his happiness, needing to find his way.

Keith had called that bullshit. 

And maybe it was. 

But Lance was too deep in and there was no turning back now. He’d packed up his life after accepting the new job offer at the company of his dreams and he’d moved to the grand city of Altea. He’d studied botany for a reason, in hopes he’d one day get to work in the labs here. And now he had it in his hands, the chance to create new herbal medicines, new strains of plants. The opportunities were endless as they stretched out before him.

This place was far grander than his tiny home town, everywhere he looked there were high end vehicles and little eco-friendly coffee shops. The entire motion of this city just flowed differently. Like a rhythm Lance just hadn’t learned yet. 

He’d closed on a little two story house that was painted a soft yellow and the previous owners had really outdone themselves in the gardening department. The home was surrounded by greenery, the backyard nearly completely consumed in different trees and flowers. 

That’s what had really grabbed Lance’s attention; he liked the big yard and the plant life. It reminded him of home. 

His mom and Dad had always told him the stories of his ancestors and their great journey to Altea. Those tales ran deep through his Altean heritage. His mother and father had faded markings, and dull magic…as did most his brothers and sisters; but not Lance. 

Lance had been born with vibrant blue marks across his cheeks like little swatches of paint. 

“You are full of the old magic,” His grandma always said to him as she squeezed his face fondly. 

Maybe that’s what drew him here, to the place where Alteans had first come to be. The old city called him home and he had no choice but to go. He knew he needed to go. 

Lance wiped the sweat from his brow and put his hands on his hips. He’d forgotten how rigorous moving was, even with the help of the crew from earlier there was still so much to unpack and arrange. He was glad he didn’t start his job until next week. He’d need the days to get his life back in order. 

His shoulders dropped. 

He had the looming feeling it would take more than a week to get it sorted out…he had after all, shredded it... gluing it back together was going to be quite the task. 

Now the house was silent, the moving crew was long gone; there were no heavy footsteps to keep him company anymore. For a moment he let the quiet get to him. It was lonely…

He crossed the room and ran from the thought. He wasn’t going to let that settle in. He was fine on his own; his parents were just a phone call away. He was going to be ok. 

He repeated that to himself several times over as he rummaged through the bag of food he’d gotten from the market earlier. It was within walking distance and he liked the idea of being able to just stroll down there any time he wanted. 

He opened the fridge and took out the packet of lunchmeat he’d gotten and fashioned himself a simple ham sandwich. He grabbed a bag of chips and a lukewarm soda, he’d not allowed them to cool in the fridge for long enough, and plopped himself down on the couch. 

His television was currently set on the floor. He hadn't put the stand together yet but he figured it was something he’d tackle tomorrow. He clicked the machine on and took a sip of his soda. 

Immediately he was greeted by headline news talking about how an entire group of Shifters had been captured in the city, disguised and running one of the local nightclubs. Alteans had been involved keeping them safe and hidden, they’d been arrested too. Lance frowned and changed the channel. 

He didn’t want to hear about the constant danger of Shifters and how terrible they were and all the efforts to capture them and keep them out of society. No-one really knew the origin of the Shifters. Only that they’d possibly been on this planet just as long as the Alteans. But in the last war which was hundreds of years ago, they’d been on the opposing side of the line, and Alteans didn’t forgive easily. Some argued Shifters were just different breeds of Alteans, as Alteans had once been shape shifting creatures themselves. Most Alteans weren’t a fan of that theory. 

They didn’t like being categorized alongside filthy ‘animals’. 

Lance didn’t really care either way. He’d never come face to face with a Shifter and he didn’t plan to, but he didn’t think the government had a right to just…eradicate them. Lance wasn’t into killing those who’d done nothing in their lifetime to cause harm. 

He settled on a reality show instead. 

At least that was mind-numbing and not so controversial. 

He finished his food and left the t.v. running just to have the drone of noise in the background. That made it feel a little less…empty in the house. 

He gathered a bag full of trash and dragged it to the back door, he better get it out to the curb tonight or he’d most likely forget. He dumped the heavy bag into the rolling bin and flicked on the yard lights, throwing the space into clarity. Night had snuck in quickly, so fast in fact he’d not even realized the sun was setting. Lance trudged across the grass and opened the gate to the back alley, loudly settling the can on the edge of the cement. 

He paused for a moment, suddenly feeling like he was being…watched. 

The young man turned and froze. 

There in the lamplights just a few paces down the long alley, stood a massive dog. In fact Lance was pretty sure that was the biggest damned dog he’d ever seen in his life. It had to be a cross between a Great Dane and…something else? 

Lance watched it, and it watched back, unmoving. 

Golden eyes observed him carefully, its pointed ears erect and alert. 

Lance couldn’t see a collar on the thing. He entertained the thought of a pet for a moment. That wasn’t such a bad idea. 

He very slowly crouched down to his knees and softly cooed at the dog. 

“Hey there buddy, where’d you come from? Is there someone missing you right now? Are you lost?” Lance whispered. 

The dog’s ears shifted, he was listening very intently. 

Lance whistled and held his hand out, trying to coax the dog to come nearer. 

“Don’t worry I won’t hurt you,” Lance continued. 

With that the dog snorted and turned to dart off into the shadows. 

Lance sighed in defeat and stood up, resting his hand on the lid of his trash can. 

He wasn’t one to give up that easily. 

He headed inside, found a plate and then tore up four pieces of lunch meat. He gently placed the offering by the edge of his back gate and left if open in welcome. His mama always told him food was the best way to make friends, and he was desperate for a friend that was for sure. 

*****

Lance didn’t sleep well. He tossed and turned and woke up far earlier than his alarm. He dragged himself out of bed feeling unrested and drained. A quick shower didn’t do much to breathe life back into him. 

He made himself a cup of coffee and walked to the back door, watching small birds flit from tree to tree, cheerily singing to one another. His eyes darted to the plate he’d left on the grass the night before and a smile teased at his lips. 

The lunch meat was gone, he couldn’t be sure it was the dog that had found it, there might be other stray animals roaming around. But he was going to tell himself it just might have been the big, beautiful creature that had eaten the peace offering. 

*****

Lance was exhausted come eight o’ clock, but the house looked a little more put together than it had the day previous. He settled the dirtied pan he’d used to sear some chicken breasts into the sink and plopped himself down at the kitchen bar. 

He absent mindedly cut his chicken into pieces and looked out into the backyard. The world was bathed in long purple shadows as the sun sunk low. And that’s when Lance saw it. 

The dog was back, its massive form standing in the mouth of his back gate, eyes watching the door as if silently hoping there might be another meal offered to it. Lance smiled wide and scrambled into the kitchen to grab one of the breasts he was going to save for lunch tomorrow, but this was more important. 

He very slowly opened the back door with a low squeak of hinges. He winced at the sound then looked to the dog. The animal hadn’t moved, but was watching Lance with a hyper-focus that was almost intimidating. Lance left the door cracked and very carefully ripped off a piece of meat. 

He tossed it to the dog and the creature snatched the morsel of food off the ground quickly, swallowing ravenously. It was obviously hungry. Lance smiled and tossed another piece, this time it landed closer to him. 

The dog processed the distance from it to Lance and slowly considered how risky it might be to take the bit of food. Its hunger seemed to win out the battle. It padded forward warily and lapped the chicken off the grass. 

“There we go. I’m not that bad I promise,” Lance said as he tore another piece. 

He threw it to the dog and it ate hungrily, never taking its glistening eyes off of Lance’s position. 

Lance tossed the last bit to the animal and sat down on the top step to watch it silently. 

It raised its huge head and tilted it to the side, waiting patiently for more. 

Lance frowned. 

“That’s all I’ve got,” He said sadly. 

The dog sniffed the air and seemed to decide that Lance was telling the truth and had no more nourishment to offer. It turned to leave, but this time looked to Lance one more time before making its exit. 

Lance grinned wide. 

He filled a deep bowl he had with water and fashioned a plate with more lunch meat then left them both on the bottom step, just in case. 


	2. The Beautiful Man

He waited for all the lights in the small yellow home to go out before he dared go near it again. Honestly just returning the second night was risky and stupid. He knew that but he was so  _ hungry.  _ He just couldn’t help it. He was so tired of digging through garbage cans for half spoiled meals. His stomach had become accustomed to it for the most part, but that didn't make him miss fresh meals any less. There was not much meat to be had this far into the city aside from the occasional stray cat or rabbit that had wandered too far from the outskirts of town. 

It was the worst place for a predator to be lurking but it was ironically the safest. The city was where one could go unnoticed. Shiro had spent a long time perfecting his shift to resemble an oversized dog and he’d mostly gotten control of it. As long as he didn’t let his emotions get the better of him he wouldn’t transform into that iconic nightmare creature all of Altea seemed so determined to kill off. 

He silently passed as a simple back alley dog. 

He stood at the gate of the home and his very sensitive ears told him that the young man that now resided there had gone to sleep. There was no movement in the belly of the house. It was safe, for now at least. This was idiotic and he knew that but he was going to do it anyway. He pawed across the yard and sampled the crisp night air. 

The pretty man had left another meal for him. 

His stomach groaned ravenously. 

He happily consumed the lunchmeat, his taste-buds exploding with the sampling of something that wasn’t  _ rotten.  _ It wasn’t enough to fully fill his belly, but it would hold him over for the night and it was delicious. The meat was fresh and still cold from the refrigerator that had held it. 

He looked at the bowl set to the side of the plate. The man had left water out for him too. He drank half of it. It was so clean and not the least bit muddy like the puddles he was used to drinking from. 

He breathed out, licking his chops and shaking his dusty fur in satisfaction. 

His eyes flicked to the back door. 

It was not unheard of for Shifters to simply take on the role of pets and never take human form again. In fact several Shifters he knew had done just that. They lived the lives of ordinary dogs, invading the homes of the very people that hated them so much. They were never the wiser. It was a charade as old as time. Ever since they’d become such a hated race, they’d taken to acting. It worked very well for some. 

But not for Shiro. 

He was too unpredictable. This little act of playing precious pet only worked if the Shifter had complete and utter control of their form at all times. The risk of a shift was far too high, one slip and they’d expose themselves and all would come crashing down. 

Shiro’s emotions often swayed his shifts without his control. If he became too angry or too sad, too flustered in any way sometimes his body just…shifted and he had no say over the matter. 

His heart was racing in his chest. 

The man living in the house he now sat before seemed kind and gentle. He would love to exist as the pretend house-pet that the man seemed to want, why else would he feed him? Shiro could see the loneliness in the chocolate haired man’s eyes from the first second he looked at him. That was something he knew all too well. This life was lonely, sometimes cripplingly so. Many of those he’d called friends had disappeared into hiding or had been captured or killed. He found himself feeling emptier with each passing day. 

The hole had been small at one time, but now it had grown into something massive that he couldn’t sew shut anymore. 

His heart was beating out of his ribs. 

He was hardly aware as his paws elongated, fingers stretching out, and fur receding back. His muzzle shrank, his teeth witling down into a human jaw. Only as the cool grass touched his now bare skin did he realize what he’d allowed to happen. He sat there on the lawn, tears cutting down his cheeks and falling onto his arms. He’d allowed the sadness to come in and take root and he’d shifted as a result. 

Panic settled in deep and he scrambled to wedge himself behind the nearest set of bushes. The limbs scratched and scraped at his naked form as he hid himself away. He was safely tucked in the backyard of the man that lived here, but he could never be too careful. He pressed his back up against the fence hidden by the bushes. 

He tried to wipe at his eyes and get the tears to stop flowing but they kept coming. Wave after wave of rattling sobs shattered through his body, and he could do nothing but curl up on himself and ride it out. He wouldn’t be able to shift back in such an emotional state. 

He bit his bottom lip hard enough to sting as he silenced a cry from leaving his tongue. 

He felt so small, defeated, as he stared down the very reason he could never pass as a pet. He could never live out a life sprawled on the couch of some gorgeous man eating good meals and enjoying the central heat and air. 

The pitiful thought that maybe the man might accept him as he was crossed his mind. That was so stupid he didn’t even have words for it, that man was a stranger and a dangerous being. All Alteans were. He was just doomed to be alone. He could never lead a normal life. He couldn’t hide as a human; he couldn’t hide as an animal. He was trapped in-between the two worlds. 

It was a cruel and unusual fate and he hated it with every fiber of his being. 

Shiro pressed his hands to his eye sockets. 

“Stop fucking crying!” He hissed to himself angrily. 

He wished he could just stop, he wished he could control himself. 

He knew the anger was just making it worse. 

And so he cried silently, mourning a life he’d never have. Companionship he’d only dream about. 

*****

Lance peeked out his back door, still adorning nothing more than a tank top and his boxer briefs he’d slept in. 

The dog was curled up by the last step of his back stoop, sleeping soundly. He smiled and hurried into the kitchen, maybe he could bribe the animal with some bacon and eggs. 

As the door creaked open the dog immediately raised its head and shot upward, seeming surprised by Lance’s appearance. 

Lance stopped, holding the fresh plate of breakfast foods. 

“Oops, didn’t mean to scare you,” Lance apologized as he set the plate down slowly and backed up to the top step, carefully taking a bite of his own food. 

The dog contemplated going for the food or not, but finally gave in. It was cautious as it snapped up the bacon. Lance offered a soft smile. 

“See? I promise I’m a friend, isn’t that right er…” Lance paused and bent his head a little, gathering a view that clearly stated the dog was indeed male. 

“Boy. Good boy,” Lance continued cheerily. 

“Now if only you would let me get close enough to pet you. Maybe bathe you? You look like you could use a bath.” 

*****

Shiro consumed the food voraciously. He couldn’t keep his eyes off the lanky young man. He was wearing a Garrison University tank top and his boxers were riding up his long legs as he perched on the back stairs. His every motion was so animated and interesting. Shiro had never seen anyone like him. 

He was gorgeous. 

His smile was bright in the morning sun and his eyes were the deepest blue Shiro had ever seen. They were like the deep end of a pool, so blue they were almost black. 

Shiro felt a tingle run down the length of his spine. 

Attraction was a finicky thing, and it had been a long time since it had slapped him in the face. 

“I’m going to call you Midnight,” the man said with a smile. 

Well that was unoriginal, Shiro thought, but somehow the way the man said it made Shiro instantly take to it. Maybe it was just his gorgeous, gentle voice. The way it left his tongue had Shiro melting. His name could be Midnight; at that point he didn’t care. 

“And I’m Lance by the way, how rude of me I didn’t introduce myself.” 

Lance, his name was Lance. 

What a perfect name for such a perfect being. 

Lance hung his arms on his drawn up knees and watched as Shiro licked the plate clean. He was smiling brightly as he watched. The markings on his cheeks were glowing softly. A gentle blue just like his eyes and Shiro paused for a moment just to watch. His face was overwhelmingly gorgeous. His hair was still thrashed with sleep, sticking up in all directions and he had the slightest dusting of freckles across his exposed shoulders. 

Shiro’s heart was racing. 

No. 

Not here, not now. 

Shiro turned tail and darted from the yard as fast as his paws could carry him. His vision swam, he was barely holding onto this form and he could feel his muscles twitching with the urge to change. He couldn’t, it was broad daylight, and he would be exposed and vulnerable. He twisted and turned down the winding alleyways, finally finding himself tucked behind a massive dumpster. 

He braced his back up against the foul-smelling container, his chest heaving from the burst of movement. His mouth tasted sour, his head was pounding, the tingling feeling was throbbing through his body, he closed his eyes and thought of anything but the Altean named Lance. 

He counted backward from twenty, allowing the counting to take up all the space in his head. He evened out his breathing. His heart didn’t feel like it was going to pound right out of his chest anymore and only then did he relax slightly. 

He could never return to that place. 

That had been far too close. 


	3. The Dream

Lance sat at the kitchen bar frowning into his cup of chamomile tea. He blew across it and took a sip. 

Midnight had not returned in three nights now, Lance had counted. The food he’d left had gone untouched and it was silly that he was so disappointed by this. It was plain sad he’d been banking on a dog to fill the void of his loneliness he’d created by moving to this new place. It was Saturday and he’d start working on Monday, he’d meet people there, he kept telling himself. 

It was just a stray dog, and stray dogs wandered on. That was just the way of it. 

Rain pattered the windows, the grey skies consuming the world in a dull lack of color that drained the energy right out of the young man. It had been raining for two days now. It brought a slight chill to the air and it only heightened his apprehensions about the move. This was his dream, he kept telling himself. 

His mom called every evening, but even that wasn’t enough. 

He looked down into the cup of yellowish tinted liquid and sighed heavily. His body was tired from unpacking and arranging the place he now called home. He used the phrase lightly. Home was a title saved for a place that was warm and comforting, and this had not become that yet.

He needed to give it time.

His eyes flicked up and scanned across the yard.

There at the gate, was the great black dog.

It was rain soaked, ears drooped down, shaking. Lance jumped out of his seat.

The laundry room, he could let it into the laundry room!

Lance raced to the back room and threw some old towels and blankets down on the floor. He stood at the laundry room door armed with a piece of bacon and a determination to help. The rain pattered on the cement and wet his bare toes as he stood half out of the door, peering into the gloom.

He whistled for the animal, holding the bacon out in welcome.

The dog did not hesitate, it loped across the wet grass and right up to Lance’s extended hand. Lance wasn’t even sure he was breathing. He tried to seem as friendly as possible; he didn’t want to spook him this time.

“You need a dry place to sleep?” Lance whispered as the dog came closer.

A cold nose touched the back of Lance’s hand and he smiled, it didn’t matter that he was now getting soaked himself. The dog was gentle as he took the bacon, eyes looking to Lance in pleading.

Lance opened the door and coaxed the animal inside.

“Here, you can get out of the rain, I can leave the door open so you can go whenever you want,” Lance said softly as he propped the door ajar.

The dog looked to the room cautiously and then to Lance.

It shook its wet coat in the entrance and Lance laughed softly, getting a spray of rainwater.

The great animal curled up in the nest of soft blankets, still shivering with the chill of the downpour. His ears rose as Lance very slowly sat down on the floor next to the bed. Lance was so determined to prove he wasn’t a threat.

He guardedly reached his fingers out, watching the dog carefully, but he did not growl nor did he flinch away.

For the very first time Lance’s digits carded through the animal’s ebony fur. He was soaked through, but still very soft. There was a low whine from the belly of the dog and he inched closer to Lance’s touch. The young man dared to move his hand to the creature’s head, dangerously close to those behemoth jaws.

The dog he called Midnight turned and licked his wrist timidly.

Lance’s smile was like a neon sign.

He scooted closer and allowed the big dog to rest his head in Lance’s lap. Lance cradled his skull, scratching behind his ears, soothing his wet fur backward. He grabbed one of the towels to his side and slowly began to dry off the pitiful creature. It just let him, seeming too tired to protest. Glowering eyes flicked up to observe him diligently and the hairs on the back of Lance’s neck stood on end.

There was a certain amount of intelligence behind those pupils that he wasn’t prepared for. There was thought going on between those viciously pointed ears. The sensation wasn’t unsettling but Lance found himself…unsure what to think of it.

It was strange.

Their gazes met and held for a long moment.

Time seemed to stop, the sound of the rain faded into background noise.

Lance’s face grew hot, and he was suddenly so aware that his markings were glowing. He touched his cheek and looked away from the yellow eyes he’d been so entranced in. Lance tried to shake himself of the eerie sensation he was left with.

“There we go, nice and dry and warm,” Lance hummed as he stroked the dog’s head once more.

“I need to sleep, but you can stay here as long as you like.”

Lance slowly rose to his feet, golden eyes watching his every motion. He peered down at the very comfortable looking animal and patted his head one more time.

And then he was gone, closing the door behind him.

*****

Shiro could hear the footsteps of the young man as he departed, the gentle slap of bare feet on hardwood. He could see light from beneath the door, just a sliver of golden that fell across his muzzle. This was a bad idea. Everything about it was risking his very life and yet…he didn’t care. The storm outside caused the trees in the yard to dance and groan in protest. A flash of lightning and a crack of thunder made him to jump and curl deeper into the blankets he’d been given.

They’d shared a moment.

Their eyes had locked and for a second Shiro felt like Lance could see him… _ really _ see him at least. As something other than a mangy dog that had wandered in off the streets. He was so much more than that. His heart was pitter-pattering in his ribs and he knew he needed to stop it but he couldn’t will himself to.

He was stuck retracing every curve of the other man in his head, learning it so as not to forget it. He wanted to remember the lines of his mouth, the softness of his hands, and the glint of his smile. He wanted to swallow the sound of the man’s voice and allow it’s warmth to soothe through him like boiling water.

If half of his mind had still been functioning he would have reminded himself that this was beyond stupid.

He didn’t need this temptation.

But the touch of another, it was so good. He’d missed that so much.

Those hands had been perfect, fingers long and lithe. He just wanted to know everything he could about the man named Lance. He was so curious, he couldn’t stop himself. What a beautiful creature and so kind. His heart had to be big to allow some strange dog into his home like so.

He was beautiful, so beautiful. If Shiro wasn’t stuck in this miserable life that he was doomed to lead, he would have courted Lance shamelessly. He would have taken him on lavish dates and spoiled him rotten. He would have given it all just to be able to exist within that gorgeous man’s life.

Shiro tried not to entertain that fantasy for long.

That was just cruel.  

He could never have anything like that. Lance was Altean and that was the end of it. He was an animal. Animals did not belong here in this society.

The home was quiet then.

Shiro’s heart had run away on him, and he didn’t try to stop the tingle running rampant through his veins. He just let the shift come; he didn’t have the energy to fight it. Part of him didn’t even care if he was caught.

He stretched his arms out slowly, muscles flexing as he extended his fingers and cracked his neck to the side. Being in one form was taxing on the body but that just came with the territory. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to dissolve some of the tension there.

He laid backward on the mess of cloth, staring up at the ceiling in the dark. He folded his arms up behind his head and closed his eyes for a moment. The rain created a soft symphony in his ears. He wished it would lull him to sleep but he just couldn’t seem to find slumber. He supposed half of him refused to accept that this place was safe.

He laid there for hours. He tapped his foot in time with the tick of the kitchen clock.

He knew Lance would be long since asleep.

His curiosity was getting the better of him. He should stop, but he just couldn’t.

Before he could second guess his actions he had his hand around the doorknob and very slowly cracked it open, allowing himself entrance to the home. His eyes were well adjusted to the dark, wandering across the space that the pretty man called his own.

His footsteps were silent as he crossed the room, palm sliding over a large floral printed couch that looked obscenely comfortable. There was a dull glow from the kitchen, the lights from the microwave becoming a beacon in the dark.

Shiro slowly waltzed through the room, observing all the pieces of a life that he was suddenly so jealous of. Plants took up all the space in the windowsills, and were placed here and there around the home. They were all so full of life, their leaves green and healthy. It was like everything Lance touched just became better than it was before.

Maybe that would ring true with Shiro too.

His mind wandered back to Lance’s hands on his face, warm and gentle and caring. It had been so nice. What he wouldn’t do to just sink into the chocolate haired man’s embrace. He tried to remind himself that this was just his lonely heart wailing louder than usual. But he couldn’t shake the thoughts loose.

There were photo frames around the living area, many of Lance with who Shiro supposed were his family. They seemed close, and happy.

Shiro didn’t have a family anymore.

His parents had been killed when he was young and the memories of them were splotchy and faded. Not really enough to put together a full recollection of them. He couldn’t remember what they sounded like, or what their favorite things were. They were as blurred as age old dreams now.

He picked up a frame that hosted a photograph of Lance in graduation robes. Shiro traced his thumb down the glass, smiling. Lance looked happy there. Happy like the first time Shiro had accepted the meal Lance had offered him. He was sure the two instances were not at all the same, but he liked that he’d made Lance smile regardless.

The air around him smelled like the young man, heady with hints of coconut that burrowed their way into Shiro’s senses.

He wasn’t even sure where his feet were taking him until he was already there. He followed the scent as it got stronger. It coaxed him down the hallway, finally bringing him to the slightly cracked bedroom door he now stood before. His breathing was shallow and scared. He should run. He shouldn’t have come inside.

He gently pressed the door open just a hair more.

The room was cast in a subtle red glow from the alarm clock on the bedside table. The young man was stretched across the rumpled comforters, void of all clothing, his face buried in an oversized pillow. Shiro was barely breathing. He’d never seen someone so absurdly perfect. It just wasn’t fair that he’d never get to know this stranger in the way he wanted.

He’d love to learn his hobbies, his favorite music. Shiro wished he could sit and listen to him rant about every bad day he ever experienced. He wished he could be the one to make him feel better. He wished he could be the one the young man fell asleep on while they watched the news on the couch. In a perfect world, maybe.

But this was not a perfect world, not even an ideal one.

Shiro’s heart almost dropped out of his chest as he realized that Lance was now sitting up in bed, staring groggily at him. Panic rose like bile in his stomach, he didn’t know whether it was better to run or to apologize.

Seconds ticked by and neither of the men moved.

And then Lance smiled, the motion slow and a little strange.

“Are you a dream?” Lance muttered groggily.

Shiro scrunched up his nose and balled his fingers at his sides.

“Yes,” Shiro replied, trying to sound sure.

Lance nodded and flopped backward onto the bed. He stretched out lengthwise, hills of sinewy flesh on full display for Shiro’s viewing pleasure.

“I knew the dreams would start coming back,” Lance mumbled.

Shiro’s shoulders dropped a little and he breathed out softly. Lance thought this was a  _ dream.  _ He hadn’t run screaming, or tried to throw anything at Shiro’s head. Was he really going to get off the hook with this?

Lance rolled onto his side, eyes glistening in the dark.

“Then why are you over there?” Lance whispered groggily.

Shiro didn’t know why, but instead of leaving, he then padded across the room. A flash of lightning through the window illuminated Shiro’s massive, naked form. Lance’s tired eyes roved the expanse of his flesh.

Lance outstretched a sleepy hand and Shiro obediently met him halfway. Lance’s palm was buttery within his calloused fingers. Lance intertwined their digits and tugged lazily. Shiro stumbled slightly and suddenly he was at the edge of the bed, staring down at the young man with wide eyes.

His body was in motion as his mind failed him and melted into a soup of blurred thoughts and emotions. He crawled onto the mattress, weight dipping the bedding gently. Lance’s arms were around him, a lanky wreath haloing the thick of his neck. Their chests were pressed together then as Lance moved into his personal space.

Lance was warm, the heat radiating right through Shiro’s flesh and boiling his core. Slender fingers buried in the back of his hair, massaging sleepily through short cropped ebony locks. The touch had Shiro’s head swimming, his breathing quickly becoming ragged and labored.

“I thought you’d be Keith,” Lance whispered as he pressed his forehead against Shiro’s chest. “What’s your name?”

Shiro hesitated, fearful to put his hands on Lance, terrified that at any moment Lance would realize this wasn’t a dream.

“Takashi,” He said breathlessly.

“Takashi,” Lance repeated, sampling the name on his tongue.

It tasted  _ right. _

“God I need this,” Lance purred as he arched against Shiro.

His hands splayed out across the wide plains of Shiro’s chest. He was sure the other man could feel just how hard his heart was beating. This wasn’t right. This was so very wrong. He shouldn’t, he knew that. He should run from here and never return. 

Lance unknowingly had his grip so tight around Shiro’s throat the big man would have done anything for him. It had been so long since Shiro had tasted any sort of intimacy with another being. He missed it terribly. He was only so strong and the heaviness of leading such a lonely life had done him so wrong. He wasn’t cut out for being alone.

And here Lance was welcoming him into his bed.

If Lance thought he was a dream, then let him be one. In dreams anything could happen and he’d be the best dream Lance had ever had.

He pressed his massive palms to either side of Lance’s jaw. His face was slender and his skin was smooth. He blinked at the other man, sleep still drenching his pupils. He tilted his head slowly, apprehensive and fearful but overall  _ wanting. _

Shiro pressed his lips to the other man’s, arousal blooming like a garden of flowers along his skin as soon as the connection was made. The display of affection disintegrated into a needing performance, Lance’s mouth parting in a weak little gasp. Shiro’s tongue slid past the barrier of his lips, lithe organs played together in the heat of a passion so strong Shiro was almost scared of it.

He cradled the back of Lance’s head and his arm slipped around the unfamiliar waist of his partner. He supposed strangers in dreams didn’t need reasons to fuck, it just made sense. He could be anything Lance wanted him to be. He could fulfill his every need, his every desire. He’d do so willingly, without question.

His nose scrunched against the side of Lance’s cheek as they kissed hard, Shiro’s hold pulling Lance to him firmly. The young man broke for breath, eyes half-lidded and his breathing rough. He giggled and tossed his head back as Shiro’s mouth found the thrum of his pulse. The sound vibrated through Shiro’s every muscle. It lit him ablaze, and for the first time he felt like he was coming to life.

As if he’d lain dormant for years and he was just now experiencing what it felt like to breathe, to  _ feel. _

Lance fell into Shiro’s arms, his erection pressing against the hardness of Shiro’s abdomen. He could feel the wet sensation of pre-cum left behind. Shiro inhaled deeply, he could  _ smell _ Lance’s arousal. It was thick and dark and dangerous. All of this was dangerous.

Shiro knew the risk he was taking; he was already having trouble holding onto one form.

It didn’t matter.

Nothing in that moment did, other than he wanted to be allowed to taste Lance, to have Lance.

It was a dream after all, and there were no limitations in a dream.

Lance fell backward onto the sheets and Shiro followed him down. His strength brought Lance to him, relishing in the sensation of the lanky man wrapping his long legs around his hips. His heels hooked at the small of Shiro’s back. Shiro trailed an exploration of soft kisses all the way from the side of Lance’s neck down to his chest. His tongue traced around the gentle bud of his nipple, tempting it to hardness. The sigh that dragged itself from Lance’s chest had Shiro high on the sound.

He was sinking into the deep so fast. He didn’t even care to try to learn how to swim now. The thunder rumbled and Lance moaned and Shiro’s senses were so alive. He consumed every sound, every motion, every touch, with a voracious appetite; he wanted more, ever hungry.

Lance’s stomach twitched as he sucked it in, Shiro’s mouth wandering across the sensitive flesh. He buried his nose in the coarse hairs of Lance’s groin, inhaling the musky scent.

Shiro encircled his lips around his partner’s shaft, tongue rolling across his underside slowly. Lance’s back bowed off the bed and his fingers buried in Shiro’s hair. His mouth fell open in a loud yell and Shiro descended downward on the man’s need. Lance jerked and cried as Shiro very slowly bobbed his head, enjoying the broken sounds he was greeted with.

He pulled away with saliva dribbling off his chin.

Lube, he needed lube.

He leaned over Lance to search through his bedside drawer, hoping he’d just get that lucky. Luck seemed to be more than on his side tonight as his fingers curled around a little bottle of Vaseline.

He wished there was more time to be patient. He could have spent all night pampering Lance’s body, making him feel things he’d hadn’t before. But his window was small. Dreams did not last long and therefore he couldn’t stay forever. That in itself was unfair.

Lance’s body was tight around his fingers, contracting around the new intrusion. Shiro was not careful or sparse with the application of the slick solution. He was too overwhelmed to be anything but sloppy. The slick fluid dripped down the canyon of Lance’s ass as Shiro pumped his digits into him. Lance was like a river, flowing and moving to accept Shiro into him.

Shiro fisted his own cock, slicking lube down his impressive girth. Lance was grabbing at him with impatient fingers, whispering ‘ _ please’  _ to him over and over again.

Shiro loomed over him like a great shadow, his pulse a hammer knocking against every bone in his body. He crushed his mouth to Lance’s as he guided his thickness to Lance’s pucker. Lance broke their kiss to cry out in something that sounded like a mixture of pain and pleasure, there was no clear line between the two.

Shiro stilled, letting him adjust, pressing their foreheads together.

“I’m glad you came,” Lance whispered.

There were tears in his eyes as emotion bubbled to the surface and overflowed. The markings on his cheeks were glowering brighter than Shiro had ever seen. They shimmered like stars, highlighting the streams of moisture cutting Lance’s face. Shiro pressed his brows together in concern.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked finally.

Lance shook his head furiously and smiled crookedly.

“Please don’t,” Lance begged.

“Don’t go, please I need you, I need  _ someone,”  _ he gasped.

“I won’t.” Shiro reassured as he kissed Lance’s cheeks, one peck for each of his markings.

Shiro pressed in farther, hips timid, trying his best to allow Lance to stretch. Lance gripped his shoulder and grit his teeth. His nails bit into Shiro’s skin and it awakened dark things in Shiro’s gut.

Their bodies entwined, coming together heavy and hard. The edge of Lance’s antique bed-frame pounded against the wall with the motion, a steady sound that mixed with the rain and the thunder and the rasp of their breathing. Shiro’s hips snapped into his lover. The heat crept along his spine like an old monster he’d forgotten even existed.

He growled into Lance’s hair, pressing in deep, feeling Lance’s knees dig into his sides. Lance prayed his name, chanting it wantonly, his eyes barely open. His hair was a mess, his markings were so bright against his flushed cheeks. It was a thunderous explosion of passion. The heat in the room was overwhelming, their breaths stale and hot as they panted into one another.

They kissed, hard, every once and a while when they weren’t gasping for oxygen.

Sweat pricked at Shiro’s hairline.

His fist found Lance’s cock, stroking him in time with his sloppy thrusts. The young man’s face looked somehow even more beautiful as it twisted with ecstasy. He came without warning, shouting so loud his voice echoed off the walls. In an instant Shiro watched him break apart completely, pieces scattered all over the bedding. Tears flowed heavy, his mouth a wide oval, cum spattered in the small space between their chests, dripping over Shiro’s knuckles. He was held together only by threads, a smile hanging on his tired lips, eyes sliding closed. He seemed more than ok with breaking.

Shiro’s motions were deteriorating. The tingle had set in before he had a single hope of warding it away. His eyes were coals in his head as the pleasure built within him, as golden as sunset in the dark. His fingertips gave way to curved, black claws. They scraped Lance’s skin and the young man didn’t seem to care. Shiro’s square jaw melted into something beastly. His pointed ears perked forward. His cock stretched Lance wider, the pliable man simply humming with the new girth.

Lance opened his eyes slowly.

He didn’t shy away from the beast now staring down at him. His coat was as black as the deepest parts of the night, eyes boring into Lance’s very soul. Lance reached both hands upward and cradled either side of the massive creature’s head. Not man, but not wolf, something in-between. Lance’s mind knew the name for it but he didn’t really care. Everyone feared them but up close he could only feel exhilaration.

His heartbeat was so  _ fast. _

The creature’s lip twitched upward, big teeth shimmering in the dim light, drool dripping hotly down onto Lance’s skin.

“Beautiful beast,” Lance whispered dazedly.

Shiro pulled Lance into his hips with ease; he was so much bigger than Lance now, the young man felt like a doll in his huge paws. He fucked him hard, chasing his finish desperately. Shiro snarled next to Lance’s ear, body riddled with muscle beneath a thick layer of gorgeous fur. The points of his claws dug into the soft flesh of Lance’s hips, rational thought faded to black as instinct and emotion took hold. Lance’s fingers twisted in his fur, refusing to let loose of his tight grip.

The fire raged and enlarged, bigger and stronger, flooding through him without mercy. It throbbed and licked along his flesh. Everything was confusing. He couldn’t grasp onto any one single thought.

And then everything stilled.

He forced in deep, shivering as the pleasure crashed down over him in a great wave.

His knot thickened, pushing Lance to his very limit. The young man gasped, not expecting the new turn of events. It was too big, too much. Shiro’s knot popped from Lance’s drenched entrance, growing to full circumference as he came, flooding Lance’s guts with waves of finish. The warmth washed through Lance, Shiro’s cock flexing in the tight space, filling him again and again. Some of Shiro’s plentiful end oozed from Lance’s body, staining the bedding and running down the rounds of his ass.

Shiro’s breathing was rough, the clouds in his head finally dissipating just enough for him to think straight.

Lance lay beneath him, arms thrown over his head, eyes already closed.

He was asleep.

As if nothing had ever happened, having fallen into a sex drunk slumber that was so hard he was already snoring softly.

Shiro peevishly pried his softening cock from Lance’s body and assessed the mess he’d made of the bedding. Dreams certainly didn’t leave stains behind like that. But he didn’t have time to fuss with it. He couldn’t believe he’d let this go so far. Shiro teetered backward on unsteady legs, shrinking down into human form. He quickly made his exit, sprinting through the home and back to the laundry room. He tiredly forced himself back into the cover of his dog-like form, barely having enough energy to do so. He sat there for a moment, the weight of what he’d just done resting heavily on his shoulders.

He’d let his emotions take hold.

He could  _ never  _ let this happen again.


	4. The Honey Eyes

Lance’s eyes rolled beneath heavy lids. He tried to cling to the sticky, heavy sleep he’d been enjoying but his body was coming around and he couldn’t keep existing in the dreamland. He lifted up on tired elbows and was suddenly so very aware how  _ sore _ he was.

He groaned.

He must have really overdone it with moving furniture around yesterday.

He sat forward, the bedding falling down long legs, revealing a menagerie of various bruises and scratches. He sighed. He didn’t really remember where all of them had come from but he summed it up to the week’s-worth of moving without a second thought. He made to slide out of bed, his hand coming across a stiff spot on the sheets.

He paused and touched at it again.

It all came back to him like a speeding car, the dream, the sex, the  _ shifter. _

Lance swallowed thickly. He was used to vivid dreams and sometimes night terrors. Being more in-tune with deep magic often caused them and so he’d dealt with them all his life. But this one felt…different. It felt astoundingly  _ real.  _ Part of him expected the stranger that had come into his room in the dream world to suddenly walk through his door. He swore he could still smell the deep, earthy tones of the man’s scent.

Lance’s chest expanded in a large breath.

Of all the things to crawl into his nighttime wonderland, why had his brain conjured…that?

A wet dream with a monster, what a fucking thing, he thought to himself with a sigh.

He gathered his sheets and threw the pile into a basket next to his bathroom. He’d worry about washing them later.

He slung a robe across his aching body and made his venture to the kitchen.

Lance made himself a cup of coffee and tried to shake the memories of the dream from his bones. But as he sipped the dark liquid all he could think about was how the man had kissed him so hard and so needy. The way he’d held onto Lance like he was afraid he’d fade away if he let go. He couldn’t get those intense eyes out of his head.

The dream came back in pieces and parts, his brain putting them together in fuzzy sequences.

His name had been Takashi.

Lance repeated it to himself out loud before taking another drink.

His feet slapped the floor as he headed to the laundry room. He assumed Midnight would be long gone, but as he opened the door, to his surprise, the great black dog was sitting there waiting for him. It startled Lance a bit to see him there and he spilled some coffee onto the tile.

The black dog cocked his head, eyes bright and interested.

Big, deep eyes the color of honey.

They were eerily familiar.

Lance huffed and folded his arms as he watched the dog. Its heavy tail beat the ground several times and for the first time it seemed to relax in Lance’s presence. Lance laughed and his smile reached all the way up to his eyes.

“So, had a change of heart have you big guy?” Lance questioned.

The dog barked and the sound was so loud it made Lance jump slightly. Lance giggled and clutched his chest.

“That is some voice you’ve got there,” Lance said as he drank some more of the coffee.

Lance sampled the air and wrinkled his nose. The entire room smelled like wet dog and garbage.

“Would you let me give you a bath?” Lance asked as he raised a brow at the big dog.

The huge animal perked its ears forward and its eyes refused to stray from Lance. It caused the hairs on Lance’s arms to rise. There it was again, the odd sensation that stirred a weird, wary feeling deep down in Lance’s gut.

He ignored it a second time and coaxed the dog to follow him and it did so without hesitation.

*****

Shiro had fought with himself throughout the night and into the early morning. He tried to convince himself to leave, but he couldn’t will his feet to go. He didn’t want to leave. He liked this place and he liked Lance, his heart was swollen three sizes too big and his head was on backwards. But it didn’t matter. He was a daft man, but he couldn’t leave this behind. This might be the only chance at a life that he’d ever get. He wouldn’t let it slip through his fingers.

He wasn’t making sense. This was a horridly immature choice. He was going to get himself killed.

He didn’t care.

Then he would die happy.

He was in love with Lance.

A week of kindness after the world had been so cruel and mean to him and he was pretty sure this emotion was love. Maybe it was infatuation, maybe it was lust. He wasn’t certain, but it felt like love. As he stood in the bathtub in the hallway bathroom, a spray of warm water washing through his filthy coat, and Lance’s hands came to rest on his bulky form, he was pretty sure it was love.

A strange love, one that was one sided and idiotic, but it was his love and it might be the only one he’d ever have. He would exist like this, as the best house pet he could be. Regardless of his emotions or the fear of his sporadic shifts…he had to take this chance. He just wanted to be happy.

The young man worked shampoo into the thick of his fur and Shiro felt his muscles relax.

He could be good; he could be a good dog.

He knew he could.

Lance seemed overjoyed to have a companion and Shiro’s heart was so full.

They needed each other in different ways and if Shiro couldn’t be here for Lance as a lover, maybe he could just be here as company.

But there had to be rules, Shiro decided right there and then.

He could never pull a stunt like he had last night again. He’d had an outrageous amount of luck on his side for reasons unbeknownst to him, but he might not have that the next time. He had to be more careful.

Much more careful.

The next few weeks their schedules became intertwined. Lance bought Shiro a collar, and installed a dog door. He bought actual dog food, which Shiro preferred less than the lunchmeat that had brought them together, but he didn’t turn it away. He trusted Shiro enough to leave him alone during the day when he went to work and Shiro was the first face he saw when he got home.

This state was a good one to be in. Lance seemed so happy just to have Shiro lying on the floor by his feet.

Shiro tried hard to control himself, to keep a handle on his emotions. It was hard with the feelings that had taken roost in his chest. He loved everything about Lance. He loved the way he danced around the kitchen while making dinner. He loved his singing voice. He loved that Lance never liked to watch the news about Shifters, he seemed to have an aversion to causing them harm and Shiro wished that didn’t give him as much hope as it did. He liked the way Lance rested his palm on his head. He loved the way Lance talked to him as if he were human, sometimes he had himself convinced that Lance really knew, but was keeping it secret for some reason.

Sometimes Shiro wondered what it would be like to have a real conversation with the man he was falling for. But this was close enough, he knew.

He could never be what Lance really needed, and so this was all he got. That had to be ok, he supposed. Even though his heart wanted more, he knew this was it.

But he was weak.

Months had passed and Shiro had done so good.

The nights were getting colder and Shiro had begun sleeping at the foot of Lance’s bed. He often didn’t take the invitation but the air in the house was rich with a deep chill and the bedding seemed so soft. Lance was far into the throes of slumber, but Shiro lay awake as his heart galloped an erratic tune. He just wanted to feel Lance again. Kiss him like he had that first time, feel him breathing so heavy, and hear him calling his name.

Shiro sat on the end of the bed as a human, his eyes watching Lance sleep.

Just one more time, he’d have him just one more time.

That’s what he told himself.

But it happened that night, and then a week later, and then so many times Shiro couldn’t count the instances anymore.

Lance began talking about the dreams to Shiro in the mornings. He called them the ‘Takashi Dreams’.

That title made Shiro’s heart weigh heavy with both excitement and guilt. This wasn’t fair to Lance; this was a self-serving fantasy that he needed to kill off. But he loved Lance so much. He loved him so deeply that it made his chest ache when he thought too long on the matter.

Lance made his way to the kitchen, Shiro loping along on his heels.

He started the coffee machine and put his hand on his hip. He was dressed in long pajamas and an oversized shirt. The winter that had settled in kept Lance clothed in the nighttime, opposed to the summer where he’d never made it to bed with garments on. Lance lifted the hem of his shirt and scratched at his stomach. There was a purple mark across his hipbone where Shiro had gripped too hard last night. But Lance had been crying his name so loudly and Shiro had been driven to near madness by the sound.

“I had one of the Takashi dreams again,” Lance said absent-mindedly.

Shiro whined in response.

Lance took his mug and gently stirred in a healthy amount of creamer.

“Sometimes I wish he was real, y’know.”

Shiro tried not to let the sentence get a rise from him, he had to stay calm. He needed to be calm. He counted backward from twenty, his usual cure for an excited heart.

“I have them so often, sometimes it feels like…he is,” Lance went on, his eyes distant, looking nowhere in particular.

He shook his head.

“It sounds stupid when I say it out loud.”

_ No, it doesn’t _ , Shiro wanted to say so badly.

_ I am real. I’m right here. I’m always right here. _

Lance’s demeanor shifted and he shook himself out of it.

“That doesn’t matter, how about we get you some breakfast?”

Shiro’s heart sank. No, he wanted to hear more, he wanted to know all of what was on Lance’s mind.

He sat loyally as Lance fetched his bowl and filled it with food.

_ I’m in love with you Lance. _


	5. The Lover on the Run

Lance brushed his teeth, watching his reflection in the mirror as he did so. It had been a long week and he hadn’t been sleeping well. Every night he found himself disappointed when he awoke and the dreams hadn’t come to him, the specific dream. Other dreams came and went like passing strangers, but there was only one he cared about. It was re-occurring, visiting him time and time again. He wished he knew what it meant but he didn’t even know where to start.

It was starting to mess with his head.

This person in his dream had started to feel…tangible to him.

He’d begun to seem like someone with personality, reason. That was a scary thought.

He spit into the sink and washed his face.

The more he thought about it the worse it was.

He crawled into bed and pulled the covers over himself.

Midnight was already asleep at the end of the bed, the dog breathing deeply.

Lance smiled at his companion and clicked out the lights.

Lance’s breathing was hard, heavy and came out as rough as asphalt. His body moved in time with the form behind him. Strong arms were wrapped around him, bringing him into every thrust. Saliva dribbled down his chin and his voice was raspy with his loud moans. He could feel his lover fucking into him wetly, harder and harder.

He tried to form words but they died on his tongue and withered away.

He could feel his body stretching, the warm sensation of his partner’s end. Bigger and bigger and bigger his cock swelled, to the point where Lance was sure he couldn’t take it but somehow did. Takashi ground his knot into his abused hole, locking them together in an embrace that intertwined their very souls. His innards were warmed with the hot expulsion, body trembling like a leaf about to fall to the ground.

He came with a shudder, electricity spiking up his spine and bringing a tingling to his toes. There were teeth on his neck, becoming sharper and digging in deep. He saw nothing but stars and all the planets as his orgasm ate him whole.

His fingers were knotted with his lover’s grounding him and letting him know he was safe. He sobbed and hiccupped, the intensity ripping him like tissue paper. He loved this part, the comedown from an orgasm unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. There were no words for it, no way to explain it. It was heavy and brilliant and could break you apart and bring you back together in mere seconds.

Lips found their way to his cheek, not quite human but not completely animal. He was both at the same time and that made Lance feel  _ wild _ . Like he tasted something that was forbidden, but he kept coming back for it.

“You took it all,” Takashi whispered into Lance’s ear.

Lance nodded with a smile.

He’d never taken his lover’s knot completely before. The high of the accomplishment had his head drifting right up through the ceiling and into the night.

“You are beautiful, my love,” Takashi purred.

Lance barely heard him, the dream was slipping away. He wanted to hold onto it for longer, he wanted to stay curled in Takashi’s arms…but he couldn’t keep his grip on it. Like sand it started sliding through his fingers and disappearing.

“Don’t go…” Lance whispered, a foot half in sleep already.

“I’m always here.”

Lance wasn’t sure he heard the last sentence correctly before consciousness escaped him.

*****

Shiro laid there next to Lance, the other man having already fallen back to sleep. He was still deep inside his lover, stroking careful fingers through familiar brown locks. He could stay like this forever, watching Lance sleep so peacefully. He seemed so satisfied and happy afterward, curling into Shiro’s chest like he belonged there all along.

Shiro wished he could have this for longer. But soon he would have to right himself and do his regular cleanup and then pretend this had never happened, just like he’d done for months now. He’d tried to convince himself to stop time and time again. But he could always tell when Lance was missing the dreams. He felt like he needed to be there for him. Be it right or wrong.

Shiro kissed the back of Lance’s neck.

They would be perfect together. A pair cut from the same piece of glass. They fit together, they deserved each other. Shiro wished he could exist in more than Lance’s dreams.

He tightened his grip on Lance and pressed them close.

He wished he didn’t love him so much.

But he didn’t know how to stop.

He yawned into the back of Lance’s neck.

He was so tired.

He’d rest his eyes for just a moment and then he would shift and sweep this instance under the rug with the rest of them.

*****

Lance stretched his arms upward and his toes out as far as they would go. He felt so unbelievably rested. He smiled to himself. The dream had come to visit him again. He was starting to think it had left…he was glad it hadn’t.

And then his foot touched something solid beneath the covers.

His immediate thought was that it was Midnight…but a lack of fur quickly told him it wasn’t. Lance very slowly rose out of bed and turned to look at the other side of the mattress, his heart clambering up into his throat. He’d forgotten how to breathe.

The other side of the bed was occupied.

He instantly recognized the other man. He was sleeping soundly, raven hair a mess and his right arm casually draped across Lance’s hip.

Takashi.

Lance blinked several times.

The rays of morning light fell across the big man’s form. The moment seemed to last for eons. Lance’s freshly awoken brain couldn’t seem to make out what was happening. It was struggling and coming up empty.

Maybe this was a dream.

Lance looked to his clock, then to the man in the bed.

No, it wasn’t.

He knew it wasn’t.

He reached out slowly, fingers hesitating before finally resting on the big round of the other man’s shoulder. He was so scared and confused. At the touch the man stirred.

His eyes came open sleepily.

And then their pupils collided across the bed-sheets.

Shiro’s eyes widened and he reared out of bed. His ankle got tangled in the mass of blankets and sent him crashing to the floor. Lance gasped and tried to form words of any kind.

Before he could the man was darting across the room and out the door with a speed Lance had no hope of matching.

“Takashi!? WAIT!” Lance begged as he slid into the hallway.

He was already to the back door, flinging it open in panic.

Lance was left there in the threshold to watch as the man became the great black dog he knew and loved and disappeared out the gate. Lance’s heart clenched tight.

No, he couldn’t leave.

He didn’t want him to.

Lance ran across the yard frantically, tripping on the curb as he entered the alleyway and he hit his knees hard. He cried out and clutched his leg, his palms red with his own blood.

“TAKASHI!!!” He screamed.

The dog didn’t stop, and finally Lance couldn’t see him anymore. The alleyway was a blurred mass of dull colors to Lance as tears collected in his eyes. His sobs rattled through him.

“Please don’t go…” Lance cried softly.

Part of him had always known. Something deep down did. The moments of eerie feelings he something got when Midnight was around. He knew to an extent. He just hadn’t put it all together; maybe he wasn’t ready for it to be real. But now it was gone and he wasn’t prepared.

He didn’t want to be all alone again.


	6. The Dog Who Found Home

Shiro’s fingers wrapped tight around the glass that was slid across the bar to him. He was about to disappear into his third whiskey. A foolish portion of him hoped that maybe the bitter drink would heal the hurt in his soul. He knew that was just wishful thinking. This was a wound too great for him to stitch up with booze.

No alcohol was probably his first rule in the long list of them that he’d made for himself.

They were the rules for survival, carefully tailored over time.

But he’d not stuck to any of them lately so he figured he’d not start now. He needed something to dull the ache down in his ribs. And this was the only thing he could resort to. It had been two weeks. He’d run until his paws were bloody.

He’d run until he physically couldn’t anymore. He’d not been able to shift in three days. He’d been trapped in this human form, trapped with all his feelings and he couldn’t run fast enough to get away from them. He hadn’t been imagining it that Lance had called out after him as he left…had he?

He was sure he’d heard it.

He’d dug clothing out of the garbage and here he was, contemplating the rights and the wrongs and the regrets. The hung off him like vultures, just waiting for him to give up the fight. He didn’t have much more fight left in him.

He missed home.

_ His home. _

He could rightfully call it that, he’d existed there for long enough to become a part of the space. And now he was out on streets that felt unfamiliar and frightening. He didn’t know how to do this anymore. He wanted his warm bed. He wanted to lay by Lance’s feet while he stayed up reading, drifting in and out of a comfortable sleep. He wanted to wake up and everything be back to normal.

He closed his eyes for a moment.

When he opened them, nothing had changed.

He was still planted in the dirty bar, wrapped in discarded garments, drinking the foul liquid from a water-stained glass.

He should have been worried about his emotions, but he didn’t care. Let him shift and let them cart him away and throw him in prison. It would be better than being out on the streets again.

He took a long drink of the fiery substance.

He wasn’t nearly drunk enough and he aimed to change that.

*****

Lance wasn’t sure where he was really. His cellphone lead the way through the shady part of the city. It was disgusting here, like the underbelly of the rest of the world. It smelled like cigarette smoke and dampness. He bundled his jacket closer to his body as his thick boots sloshed through the puddles below him. The night was frigid; the cold air nipping at every piece of skin it could get at. It slipped up his sleeves and nibbled at his ears. He couldn’t shake it off.

He didn’t really know what he was doing here.

Chasing ghosts he guessed.

He was searching for a shadow, someone who didn’t actually exist. He was fighting a losing battle and he knew that, he just refused to fully accept it. He kept thinking if he searched enough dive bars and back alley hole in the wall establishments…maybe by some miracle…he’d find him.

He’d bring him home.

Lance was mourning something he’d not even known he’d had in the first place. He guessed he was mourning over what he could have but hadn’t had the chance to grasp it.

His breath left his lips in silvery wisps and he rubbed his gloved hands together.

There were people here and there, wandering about, puking in the alleyway, huddled around fires in barrels. He stuck out like a sore thumb from the rest of the people here. But his determination drove him onward.

He checked everyone he passed, his eyes lighting up when he came across anyone with black hair and the build he was looking for. But none of them were  _ him.  _ That was the most difficult part…Lance didn’t know what he was looking for. Man? Beast? Something in the middle of the two? He wasn’t sure.

All he had was the little strand of hope he’d been clinging to for weeks and he refused to let that go.

His feet ached from walking, he wasn’t sure how many miles he’d covered.

His nose was runny and cold and there was a cough developing deep down in his chest. He knew he needed to go home for the night but his heart hated the idea of another failed search. He’d gone home every night empty handed and he hated this. He didn’t even have the chance to ask the questions he wanted.

He just wanted to talk…

He was about to turn around when a commotion caught his attention.

There was yelling, then the scuffle of feet and suddenly the back doors of the nearest bar flung open and a man was shoved out them. He stumbled and fell into the mud, obviously too drunk to confidently use his own two legs.

“No money, no service you freeloading son of a bitch,” The big man from the door barked.

“Your booze tastes-hic- like shit anyway!” The man bellowed back drunkenly as he got onto his hands and knees.

He tried to get up and fell again. He slung a few more curses at the barkeep and the door slammed shut as a response.

Lance stopped dead.

He knew that voice.

He  _ knew it. _

His feet splashed through the standing water as he jogged over to the fallen man who was still trying to right himself. Lance crouched down slowly.

“Takashi?” He whispered.

The man looked up slowly.

He looked horrid, one eye yellow, the other a dull grey, his teeth sharp behind his lips. Lance gently brushed his soggy bangs out of his face, there was blood running down his forehead and over his cheek where he’d hit the cobblestone.

“Lance?” He whispered in a slurred voice.

“Shit, you’re a mess. We’ve got to get you home, nobody can see you like this,” Lance hissed as he looked over his shoulder.

He took his scarf off and wrapped it around half of Shiro’s face to hide most of his drunken, partial transformation.

“W-why are you here?” Shiro whispered as Lance tried to haul him to his feet but he teetered unsteadily.

Lance held him upward and began trudging in the direction of home.

“I’ve been looking for you for weeks,” Lance admitted as Shiro put almost his entire weight on Lance’s scrawny body.

“You’ve been- hic- looking for me? Why? You should…should hate me…” Shiro blubbered.

“Hush,” Lance said sternly.

They were both muddy and exhausted by the time their feet reached Lance’s front stoop. He shoved the door open and herded the very drunk other man toward the bathroom. He shucked his shoes off and left his winter clothes in a trail down the hallway. Shiro tripped as he entered the bathroom.

“D-don’t feel so good…I think I’m gunna throw up…” Shiro grumbled.

Lance steered him toward the toilet.

“Sit down,” Lance instructed as he forced him down onto the bathroom tile.

Shiro rested his cheek on the cool toilet seat and whimpered into his own arm. Lance eased himself down onto the floor next to him. Shiro shuddered, sobs suddenly coming on heavy and strong.

“I’m sorry I’m such a wreck…” He sniffed pathetically.

Lance scooted closer and soothed his fingers through Shiro’s hair. The man looked like a confused puzzle of man and wolf, like his body wasn’t sure which form fit best in the moment. Lance eased a gentle hand across Shiro’s back.

“Don’t apologize.”

*****

The first thought that ran through his head, was that he hurt.  _ Everywhere. _

His temple was pounding like a bass drum, his eyes throbbing. He groaned and pressed his palms against his sockets. That didn’t seem to help. He shifted in the sheets and grumbled.

Wait, he thought,  _ sheets? _

His eyes snapped open and gathered his surroundings. He was in bed. Specifically Lance’s bed, he would know this room anywhere. This was where he’d slept for months after all.

His head whipped around as the door creaked open.

Lance stood there in the mouth of the room, haloed in morning light like some sort of ethereal being. He had a glass of water in one hand and a little plate of bacon and eggs in the other. And suddenly Shiro was standing in that alley once more, looking at Lance for the very first time. Food had brought them together the first time, and here it was the extended peace offering once more. He sat forward, embarrassed and ashamed more than anything else.

Lance came across the space and settled his weight on the bed.

“You need to eat and get hydrated again,” Lance said flatly.

Shiro’s heart sank. His tone was so dry and there was no smile on Lance’s lips.

Shiro dropped his big shoulders.

“I’m so sorry…” Shiro began, but Lance held up his hand.

“You can’t ever do that again,” Lance snapped. “If an Altean had spotted you they would have captured you!! How could you have been so stupid!?”

Shiro’s back straightened and his frown deepened.

“They could have taken you from me,” Lance whispered as he rubbed as his arm, eyes downcast.

Now Shiro really didn’t understand.

“That’s what you are worried about? I lied to you, I…I let you believe our…times…together were just dreams! That’s fucked up Lance!” Shiro barked.

Lance grit his teeth and suddenly reared back and punched Shiro in the chest.

It didn’t hurt, really, but it got Shiro’s attention.

“I don’t care about any of that. As far as I’m concerned dreams are just as good as reality and you are my reality and I need you, so don’t be so fucking stupid!” Lance yelled.

Shiro’s face contorted into something pained.

Lance sucked in a deep breath.

“I always kind of knew…I think, deep down…what you were…sometimes I could just…feel it.”

Lance’s markings were glowing brightly and there were tears cutting lines down his face.

Shiro cocked his head.

“You knew…” He whispered.

Lance shrugged.

“In a way.”

Lance sniffled loudly and wiped at his eyes. Shiro’s heart broke into pieces at the sight.

“Oh no, don’t cry, please don’t cry,” Shiro mumbled as he scooted closer to Lance.

“I’m not crying!” Lance wailed.

Shiro frowned and without warning grabbed Lance and tugged him into his arms. It was against his better judgment but he went through the action anyway. Lance uncoiled at the touch, pressing himself into Shiro’s bare chest and sobbing against the warm flesh.

“Don’t ever do that to me again!” Lance bellowed.

Shiro held onto him tighter.

“I won’t I promise I won’t.”

Lance cried until he had no tears left to give. The two of them laid there on the mattress, Shiro stroking his fingers through Lance’s locks soothingly. They did not speak for a long while. Shiro figured words weren’t really needed. Lance yawned widely and curled in closer to Shiro’s warmth.

“It will be dangerous for you if I stay,” Shiro said softly.

Lance nodded.

“I know, and I don’t care.”

Silence settled between them and Shiro cradled the back of Lance’s head, placing a very soft kiss to his ear.

They fell asleep that way, both too exhausted, knowing it was finally safe to just let go.


	7. The End

Lance lay stretched across the massive couch, his nose buried in the pages of the newest book he’d started and his toes tucked carefully beneath two blankets. The heavy thud of footsteps kissed at his ears. The couch shook as a big body jumped up and balanced on the couch arm.

Shiro’s immense shadow cast over him, his intelligent, simmering eyes bore holes into Lance’s being. He was huge like this, perched with his arms on his knees, making the couch arm look like a thin tree branch. Only late into the evening when all their lights had been dimmed was Shiro allowed to take this form.

Lance peered over his book at the massive beast at the other side of the furniture.

Shiro whined at him lowly.

Lance rolled his eyes.

“After this chapter,” He said going back to his reading.

He felt Shiro’s weight as he crawled across the couch, caging Lance to the cushions. A big, clawed hand gently plucked the book from Lance’s fingers and set it on the coffee table. Lance made to protest but Shiro buried his muzzle in the crook of Lance’s throat, his enormous tongue laving across the sensitive flesh. He huffed a hot breath into Lance’s ear and it sent shudders rolling in waves down Lance’s limbs.

Lance smiled, with all his teeth and tangled his fingers in Shiro’s thick fur.

“You are the worst dog I’ve ever had,” Lance teased.

Shiro gently scooped Lance off the couch, pressing their foreheads together and then headed down the hall to the bedroom. Lance was cradled in a pair of strength riddled arm, feeling netted in safety. The hold was firm and loving, the warmth of ebony fur all around him providing a wreath of comfort that nothing else in the world could.

He nuzzled into Shiro’s chest, lost in the naturally thick aroma of his lover; his dream that had come bursting into brilliant reality.

To prying eyes, this was the greatest of all taboos. Lance couldn’t see a hint of wrong in it. He liked the wild way Shiro fucked, his emotions coming on so strong that he couldn’t keep from transforming. The pleasure was far too much for him, and Lance took some sort of pride in that.

His fingers stroked through the soft, clean strands of fur.

He felt himself falling backward so very slowly.

Shiro did not loosen his hold on Lance as he pressed him down onto the mattress. Lance sighed out heavily, a smile teasing his face. His markings were already glowing like stars in the dark bedroom. They reflected in Shiro’s eyes, dancing like little candle flames.

Shiro’s maw ran the length of Lance’s neck, nostrils flared, and taking in the smell of his lover. Lance stroked his fingers over Shiro’s massive head, down his pointed ear.

“My beast,” He whispered with a light laugh.

Careful claws slipped beneath Lance’s oversized nightshirt, the young man helping to get it off but getting his head stuck in the bundle of clothing. Shiro gently pulled it off and Lance was laughing so genuinely it melted Shiro’s heart to liquid.

There was so much love in that laughter, deep and strong that ran like hooves across the wild plains. He loved Shiro regardless of what he was, he didn’t ask him to change, and he welcomed Shiro just like this. He  _ wanted _ Shiro just like this.

Big, terrifying black claws dragged ever so gently over Lance’s heaving abdomen, tracing each of his ribs before pausing to hook in the hem of his flannel pajamas. The flimsy bow keeping his them secure on his hips was undone by the point of Shiro’s nail. He hulked over Lance’s much smaller form as he removed the sleepwear unhurriedly.

He always took his time with this; there was no need to rush. He could take all night if he so wished. He could spend the seconds worshipping every inch of Lance’s body the way it deserved to be. Lance was a temple he could pray to the rest of his life.

Lance’s eyes slid closed, arms tossed above his head lazily. He buried his perfect little lip between his teeth and hummed as Shiro exhaled a big breath across his stomach. Shiro could see Lance twitch at the touch of the warm exhale of air.

Shiro’s nose pressed against Lance’s chest and Lance gasped.

“Your nose is so cold babe,” Lance hissed with a giggle.

Shiro let go of a jovial rumble of sound.

He flattened his tongue and ran the massive organ across Lance’s right nipple, lapping softly, causing Lance to come up off the bed like a graceful little drawbridge. Shiro hummed and traveled to give Lance’s other sensitive bud the same treatment. Lance whined and shivered, the sound was like honey dripping down over Shiro’s ears. He liked the way Lance moved beneath him, coming unraveled like a ribbon from his spool. He opened up to Shiro with absolute trust. He had full faith that Shiro would handle him with the utmost care. He let go and counted on Shiro to catch him.

Shiro always did.

Lance could jump without fear and know he’d never hit the ground, not with Shiro’s loving arms there to cradle him.

This was his safe place.

Shiro was his safe place.

A huff of tepid breath spread out over Lance’s lower abdomen as Shiro traveled down. It was a raspy sound as Shiro let it go, something so deep with arousal that it caused the hairs on the back of Lance’s neck to stand on end. Shiro watched him with keen eyes, loving the way his face contorted in pleasure as Shiro descended down his body.

He stalked down the caramel hills of flesh like the hunter he was designed to be.

Lance didn’t mind being prey; he wanted to be eaten alive.

Shiro paused, taking down a deep inhale, loving the heady hints that Lance’s scent left behind. The air smelled like arousal, heavy and desperate.

Shiro curled his lip up, big teeth shimmering with wetness.

His lengthy tongue extended, widening as he ran it softly up Lance’s pitiful erection. Lance jolted and cried at the contact. Shiro’s lithe organ encompassed the entirety of Lance’s cock, curling around it with ease. He could taste the sharp hints of Lance’s wept pre-cum. It set his instincts alight with raw need.

He growled loudly, the fur on his back standing up straight.

Lance’s fingers buried tightly in the bed-sheets as Shiro ran his tongue up him again, lapping at him eagerly. Saliva ran down Lance’s tight little sack as his pride pulled toward his body. It was sloppy and warm and absolutely everything he could have ever asked for.

Lance’s eyes rolled backward into his head and he tilted his neck. He was lost in the thick of sexual tension then, so far out in the forest that Shiro was his last tether to the real world. He chanted a loud declaration of Shiro’s name, as if it were the only word in his vocabulary.

Shiro’s tongue danced circles around his prick, Lance seeming un-phased by just how close his cock currently was to teeth that could easily crush a man’s arm. The amount of faith Lance had in Shiro made Shiro’s chest ache. Sometimes he didn’t feel like he deserved all of it. But Lance gave it regardless.

Lance’s voice swam through his head, back to a conversation they’d had several times before.

_ “That’s what people do when they love each other, they trust in one another.” _

Shiro rolled his wetness down over Lance’s balls and back up again, the young man twitching and gasping on the mattress wildly. His yells gained in strength, unbridled, with nothing to hide. He was not modest about his pleasure. By the time they were done, the whole neighborhood would know Lance had been fucked into oblivion in all the ways he liked best.

And then Lance stilled, legs snapping on either side of Shiro’s shoulders as his body convulsed. Shiro could taste the warm, sour sensation of his lover’s finish as it flooded his maw. He swallowed it eagerly, the taste going straight to his own massive erection.

He eased Lance through his orgasm, wringing him for all he was worth, lapping up every drop with eager nature. His lover lay boneless on the bedding, gasping for oxygen when Shiro grabbed him and gently prodded Lance onto his stomach. Lance obeyed tiredly, a stupid smile painted on his cheeks.

He hummed into the sensation of Shiro slicking his hole, and whimpered when Shiro mounted him roughly.

He was not gentle. Lance didn’t want him to be gentle. He wanted everything Shiro had to give.

Shiro rutted into him hard, snapping his hips into his lover’s mean enough to bruise; innocence was left on the bedroom floor as Lance allowed the beast to fuck him like a beast was meant to. Shiro snarled into his ear, panting and slobbering onto the bed sheets. He wouldn’t last long, he was too pent up, and he just needed the rush of release.

Lance tiredly lifted his hips upward, moaning shrilly as he felt Shiro begin to swell within him. He clenched his lip hard and tasted blood. Shiro’s knot tied them together as he came. He threw back his head in a deafening howl that echoed through their home as his end washed over him.

He hovered over Lance then, spent and breathing roughly.

Lance lay with his face resting on his arms, eyes barely open.

Lance could feel it as Shiro very slowly began to shift back to human. His knot dissipated very gently, cum spilling from Lance’s red, abused hole and leaking onto the blankets. Neither of them seemed to care.

Shiro curled himself around Lance with the last bit of energy he had to muster. His lips found the curve of Lance’s ear and he kissed there lovingly.

“I’m glad you found me,” Shiro whispered softly.

“Me too,” Lance replied with a yawn.


End file.
